We’ve been told, over and over again, that we don’t want a king.
We bristle at the idea. We resist authority. We question power. We instinctively push back against anyone who would claim rule over us. In fact, in our modern moment, there’s almost a badge of honor in saying it out loud—No kings.
No one tells me what to do. No one defines my truth. No one rules my life.
And if we’re honest, that instinct runs deeper than politics or culture. It’s personal. We don’t just reject kings “out there.” We reject them in here—in our hearts. Because at the core of who we are, we want control. We want autonomy. We want the final word. And anything—or anyone—that threatens that, we resist.
That’s not new. That’s human. It’s as old as the first rebellion.
But today—this day—forces a question we cannot escape.
What if the King we’ve been resisting is the only One who ever truly loved us?
What if the authority we push back against is the very authority that stepped into our brokenness, took on our guilt, and defeated the two enemies we could never overcome—sin and death?
Because that’s what today declares.
Not quietly. Not symbolically. But definitively.
The grave is empty.
Not metaphorically. Not spiritually. Physically. Historically. The stone was rolled away. The tomb was vacated. The body was gone. And Jesus—the same Jesus who rode into Jerusalem to cheers, who was betrayed, beaten, mocked, and crucified—walked out alive.
Do you understand what that means?
It means death didn’t win. It means sin didn’t hold. It means the full weight of everything that separates us from God was crushed—obliterated—humiliated forever.
And if that weren’t enough, there’s a detail in this story that should undo us.
Because just days before that empty grave, there was a cross. And on that cross, there was a thief. A guilty man. A broken man. A man who admitted, with his dying breath, that he deserved to be there.
And Jesus looked at him—not with condemnation, but with mercy—and said, “Today… you will be with me in paradise.”
Think about that.
The last man to walk into eternity before Jesus conquered death was a criminal—forgiven, welcomed, saved. Not because he earned it. Not because he fixed his life. But because he trusted the King hanging next to him.
And that same King walked out of the grave three days later. Victorious. Untouched by death. Unbound by sin. Alive.
That’s not the kind of King we’re used to.
Kings take. Kings demand. Kings protect their power. But this King? He gave. He suffered. He died. And then He rose—not to crush His enemies, but to offer them life. To offer you life.
And this is where everything shifts.
Because if the tomb is empty, if the thief is forgiven, if Jesus is alive—then “No kings” is no longer an option. Not because we’re forced, but because we’re confronted with a truth too powerful to ignore.
This King doesn’t rule by fear. He rules by love. This King doesn’t demand your submission. He earns your trust. This King doesn’t take your life. He gives you His.
And suddenly, the resistance we’ve carried, the independence we’ve clung to, the control we’ve fought to maintain—it all starts to feel small.
Because what are we really holding onto?
Our pride? Our illusion of control? Our temporary, fragile, fleeting sense of being in charge?
Against this?
An empty grave. A defeated death. A forgiven sinner welcomed into paradise. A living King who conquered the one thing we never could.
And the answer becomes clear.
I don’t want a king who takes from me. I don’t want a king who controls me. I don’t want a king who demands allegiance for his own sake.
But this King—the One who stepped into my place, who carried my sin, who endured my punishment, who defeated my death, and then offered me life anyway—this King, I will follow.
This King, I will trust.
This King, I will gladly, joyfully, completely call my own.
Because today is not just Resurrection Sunday.
It is My King’s Day.
The day everything changed. The day sin was crushed. The day death was defeated. The day hope stopped being a wish and became a reality.
And for those of us who follow Him, that victory isn’t distant. It’s not theoretical. It’s ours. We live in it. We walk in it. We rejoice in it.
Because the enemies that once defined us—sin and death—have been utterly defeated. Not wounded. Not weakened. Destroyed. Humiliated. Forever.
And that means something.
It means your past does not own you. It means your failures do not define you. It means death itself has lost its sting. It means that the worst thing that could ever happen to you has already been conquered.
So yes—the world can keep its slogans.
“No kings.”
I understand it. I even feel the pull of it.
But today, standing in the shadow of an empty grave, looking at a forgiven thief and a risen Jesus, I’ve made my choice.
I have a King.
And He is alive.
Forever.
Kevin McCullough April 5, 2026
Re: My "King's Day"
Posted by Skye on April 6, 2026, 6:30 am, in reply to "My "King's Day""
When I come to that threshold between life and death, I hope I can look back on my life and remember the kindnesses that I did for my neighbors and they did for me, knowing that none are perfect... but that I tried to be kind, fair and reasonable. I don't require perfection from others to be kind to them, and I'd hope the same from them. We are human. We live in an imperfect world, but we can try to make it better. That's all I could ask or hope for. People who strive for perfection sometimes go overboard and miss the mark, by a long shot. Look at the religious wars of history and some still raging today... all in the name of their "God" or "King"
You won’t get into eternal salvation by good deeds. Only through acceptance of the
One and only Jesus Christ. The issue is sin. The remedy is forgiveness through the perfect symbol God bestowed on wayward criminal humanity. We are ALL criminals thanks to Adam and Eve. Atonement began with Abel’s gift of flesh. And the theme was finalized through the sacrifice of Christ on the cross.
But good deeds are always a result, if not the reason for, salvation.
Posted by observer on April 6, 2026, 9:25 am, in reply to "Re: My "King's Day""
and forgettable. It is lofty goals, moral and ethical goals spiritually defined, that make significant changes in human life. But, as you recognize human beings are far from perfect and are extremely limited in what they can do to make a significant difference, a difference that changes human history. Not so with the life of Christ who ushered in the greatest change in all of human history.
And He offers Himself as an active role to be played in the still imperfect, if greatly improving lives of His followers. Those virtues you value are necessarily a part of loving others, but alone they are limiting because by themselves do not offer the power and ability to confront evil, to effect justice, to bring the truth of God and His perfect justice to humanity.
I enjoy the love and kindness and friendship in my own neighborhood for example, where we all look out for each other. But It in no way has the power and effect that my church family has in our community, and in bettering the lives of the helpless and hopeless, which everyone is, even if they don’t realize it until they’ve been “saved”.
Still, not all will believe in Christ and there’s no way of knowing who they are. So sharing the Word, the hope, the love, the truth of the God who created us, is endemic to Christian faith.Not only is it endemic and obedient, but natural to want what we know is not only best, but salvific for our fellow man. It’s not religion, it’s a call to a personal relationship with the God who created us out of love to share in His creation and live with Him in eternity and a then perfect world.
People want to “see” something and then they’ll have faith. God says “Have faith and I’ll show you plenty.”
A rose may look beautiful and perfect, for a short time... and it gives us joy to see and smell it while we can.
For all we know, the only thing that is "perfect" in life is the overall natural design, which includes decay, death, rebirth, and imperfection all over again... for without darkness, there can be no light, without pain no joy, and without death, no life.
